Leading a Life
by XxxAnimaniacxxX
Summary: Being like his father was something every little boy wanted, but for Kendall it came at a heavy price, hanging over his shoulder at every turn. Written for the sick fic challenge. Some kames.
**So this is my story for the sick fic challenge :) it's about panic disorder in teens. This is the best I could do :P**

Kendall was ten years old the first time he witnessed someone having a panic attack.

It was his dad who suffered it; at first he watched his eyes widen and his hand clasp to tightly grip his chest and he thought he was having a heart attack. He ran to pick up his mom's cellphone and wailed for her at the same time, "Dad's having a heart attack!"

His mom ran to the scene and snatched the phone from him, but when she saw his dad standing there, eyes brimming with tears and shaking his head frantically at her, she put the phone down with a different expression on her face; instead of looking scared, like Kendall was, she simply looked sad. And she strode over to him, knelt in front of him and cupped his face softly, murmuring to him in a low voice. Their eyes stayed locked and Kendall watched them, sitting on the couch because his knees shook too hard to support him. He watched his parents and eventually, his dad seemed to get better. His breath calmed, his chest moving normally again. He smiled at his mom and whispered something that Kendall barely heard, but recognised as, "Thank you." She smiled and kissed him on the cheeks, before he stood and helped her to her feet, hands on her swollen belly.

Later, while Kendall was sitting and watching cartoons, she went and sat down with him, rubbing her baby bump. "Kendall?"

Kendall looked up, smiling at her. "Is Katie kicking?"

"Yes she is," she chuckled, taking his hand and placing it on her belly. He giggled as he felt the little tapping of his baby sister's feet.

"When's she coming?" Kendall asked, sitting back and placing his hands back on his lap.

"In two weeks. Kendall, I'd like to talk to you about what happened earlier today, with Dad. Is that okay?"

"That's okay . . ." Kendall sighed. "He's better now, isn't he?"

"Oh yes, but we still need to talk about it. Look at me, honey."

He did and she continued, "What Dad had wasn't a heart attack, though it does look like one. But it's called a panic attack. It's a terrible thing; your chest hurts and you feel dizzy but it's because you're afraid, and you don't understand why. He used to have them when he was in college but he hasn't had one in years . . . which means he may start having them again. I might not be around next time."

"What?" Kendall felt himself shrink in fear. "Me?"

"Don't worry." She put her arm around his skinny shoulders. "It's scary but you're a big boy, you can handle it. Listen to me carefully, okay? What you need to do is reassure him. Don't tell him he's being stupid about being scared just because you don't understand it. Tell him he's safe but go easy on him. Try to get him to copy your breathing. Does that make sense?"

"It makes sense . . ."

"And praise him. It's a difficult thing to go through, but you should show you're proud of how strong he's being." She sighed. "You know sweetie, some people think that a man being afraid is a sign of being weak, but there's nothing wrong with that. You need to remember that, alright?"

"Okay, Mom . . . thank you."

"You're welcome," she said kindly, kissing his forehead and ruffling his hair.

She was right on the money; his dad did have more panic attacks. His doctor didn't know the reason, and stressed that it was nothing more than a relapse in his previous issues with them. He didn't have them hugely often; maybe once every couple of weeks, with an occasional break for a month or two, or an equally rare period with many attacks in a shorter space of time. And they occurred everywhere; when he was at work and his colleagues had to calm him, at the ice rink or at the park when he played with Kendall, or just at home sitting on the couch.

Of course, Kendall's dad had always been a very philosophical person, believing in a reason for everything. Every emotion, every action, every dream and desire. So when he collapsed in unbearable pain and was diagnosed with cancer, stage 4, he was determined to believe that his panic attacks came back as some kind of warning, some kind of sign. Kendall's mom wept and he held her close, while Kendall watched from the shadows and cradled his baby sister in his arms. He kept his weeping silent so as not to wake her.

He went through the chemotherapy, the various treatments, the stress and the attacks. He took Katie for walks in her stroller and still tried to play in the park with Kendall.

He died a week after Kendall's thirteenth birthday.

* * *

Kendall was fourteen when the attacks came again. Only this time they didn't come after his father; they came after him.

The supermarket was packed that morning, filled with single women and parents with kids dangling off their shopping carts. Kendall held his shopping basket in his hand, swinging it slightly as his eyes scanned the shelves for the right brand of pasta shapes. He always did the shopping for his mother; with work she was always busy, and always tired, always stressed. She wasn't the same without Dad and he knew she never would be. Kendall helped her with the housework, the cooking and the cleaning, and of course the shopping. It was difficult to balance it with his schoolwork and dwindling social life, not to mention his own grieving for his father that hadn't even come close to ending – but it was worth it to make things easier for her. The manager of the store knew all regular customers by name, and had even promised Kendall that maybe once he was sixteen he would be welcome to apply for a part time job. So some extra time would be taken up, but some extra cash would be earned. That made it worth it.

He found his mom's favourite brand of spaghetti and picked up a box, slotting it into his basket and moving down the aisle. He moved into the confectionary aisle and decided to pick up a bag of Reese's. He picked them up and stared at them for much longer than he intended to. On Saturday mornings he used to go to the supermarket with his dad and every week, his dad bought a bag of Reese's, mostly for himself as they were his favourite. But he always let Kendall have at least one, usually more. He teased him a little first, of course, but that was okay. It was just part of him. He suddenly found his eyes brimming with tears, and he missed him terribly. More so than he had in months. His hands began to shake as he struggled not to cry in the middle of the aisle, but he felt tears spill over and that was when his hand shook so hard the Reese's flew and slid across the floor and his chest began to tighten.

"Oh god," he gasped, hand slamming against the shelf as the other held his chest. He doubled over and wheezed as he fought to take air into his lungs, feeling the walls and ceiling close in around him. He feared he was going to be sick all over the floor, but more than that he feared collapsing from the lack of fear; he feared his chest tightening and squeezing the last of the air from his lungs, suffocating him, killing him. He felt his head spin and his vision fill with spots as he fell to his knees. Never had his body felt so rigid, yet so weak all at once.

Then he felt a hand touch his shoulder and it felt oddly warm; he must've visibly flinched, made some sort of sound he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears. But then he heard a soothing voice, softly saying, "Okay, it's okay. I won't touch you again."

He gripped the shelf tighter so he had something to connect him to reality.

"It's alright. I know you're scared, but you're safe here. You're safe with me. I'll take care of you."

"I—I . . ." he choked, rasped as he felt his vision go black and his head fly towards the floor. Something caught it before it could hit the floor, and at last he felt himself drift away.

…

"Hey?"

Kendall opened his eyes at last and sat up straighter, leaning back against the supermarket shelf. His head was beginning to clear, and he could hear the footsteps of the manager and a stricken customer or two rushing to see if he was okay. He spotted his shopping basket lying on its side, the contents knocked out, some broken or spilled. And finally, when he felt brave enough to do so, he looked up and saw the eyes of the person who'd consoled him.

After hearing how calm and soothing his voice was, how in control he was, he was shocked to see that this boy looked to be the same age as him. He was on one knee in front of him, his warm hazel eyes staring right into his. Then he smiled; pearly white teeth contrasted against his tan skin and he held out his hand. "You okay?" he asked softly.

Kendall nodded slowly and took his hand, letting the boy help him to his feet. He stood on slightly shaky legs and managed a smile. "Thanks," he murmured, eyes falling back to his groceries scattered around the floor.

"Kendall, honey, are you okay?" Ms Wainwright cried, holding his shoulders. "Goodness, you almost gave me a heart attack! What happened to you?"

"I-I . . . I don't know," he managed to stammer, stepping back as subtly as he could so her hands fell from his shoulders. "I don't know . . ."

"He had a panic attack," the boy said, sounding surprisingly confident. He flashed his pearly teeth again, "Don't worry though, he's fine now."

"Let me replace these for you, Kendall," she continued, fussing to pick up the broken food and put it back in the basket. "I'll gather it all for you and you just get yourself home and rest. Don't worry about paying."

"I can't take that from you," he tried to protest, but his voice came out weak and shaky, feeble and stammering. His cheeks flushed in shame, though he loathed admitting it to himself.

"No, Kendall, it's fine," she said sternly. She turned to the boy and said, "Take him to sit by the counter sweetie, please. I'm glad I had you here."

"You got it, Kelly," he said reassuringly, reaching out again for Kendall's hand. Taking it again, but barely holding it, Kendall followed him to the counter and sat down.

"I'm fine, you know," he said at last. "I don't need to sit down."

"I believe you. But it doesn't hurt, does it?" He smiled. "So, Kendall. You're from around here I'm guessing, if Kelly knows you."

"How do you know Kelly?"

"She's married to my uncle. So she's my aunt, I guess. Acts like it anyway. We're staying with them for a day or two."

"That's cool . . ."

"I'm back!" Sighing in relief, Kendall looked up.

"Here you go," Ms Wainwright said sweetly, handing him the bag of groceries. "You take that home with you, and give my best to your mom, okay?"

"Thank you so much." Taking the bag he got to his feet, standing strong and giving her a confident smile. However, she didn't seem to buy it and turned to the boy, clasping her hands together and saying in a chirpy voice, "Honey, would you mind walking him home?"

Kendall opened his mouth to protest when he was cut off. "No problem, Kelly," he chirped, turning to Kendall. "Come on, lead the way."

Sighing, Kendall held the grocery bag tight in his arms and left the store, the boy following behind. "My name is James, by the way," he announced. "James Diamond."

"That's an interesting surname," Kendall commented as he walked, keeping a fast pace.

"Oh really? What's yours?"

He paused. "Knight."

"And you were mocking Diamond? _Please_ , Kendall, people in glass houses. Listen, are you sure you're okay?"

Caught off guard by James' sudden change of tone, he stuttered out, "Huh?" _Yeah, great response._

"You know, panic attacks can be scary, it's just—"

"I know they can be," Kendall snapped before he could help himself. "I know all about them, my dad used to get them."

"Oh . . . sorry."

"I know what I'm dealing with."

"I get it, I'm sorry."

"How did you know what to do, anyway?"

"Oh, my mom used to get them from time to time at her old job. She's doing better now though, which is great. I just remembered what she told me. I guess your dad's better too?"

Kendall sighed, slowing to a stop. "No," he said quietly. "The opposite, really. He . . . you know."

"Oh. God, I'm sorry."

"He didn't kill himself, if that's what you're thinking," Kendall said bitingly, feeling his body tense up again. "He was sick. He didn't want to die."

"Of course, I wasn't assuming anything. I'm just sorry he's not around anymore . . . he'd probably do a much better job of handling this than me, anyway. Adult wisdom and all that."

"Right." Kendall took a sharp left and walked up his driveway. "We're here." As he unlocked the door, he suddenly felt guilty and turned around to where James was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, rocking on his heels with his hands deep in his pockets. "Thanks for helping me earlier," he said. "And for walking me home."

"You're welcome," James replied with a smile. "Take care, yeah? I need to get back to the store."

"Sure, sure . . . you take care too. Bye." Opening the door, he stepped inside and locked it again after him, leaning back against it with a sigh. After about a minute of just standing there with vague wandering thoughts about how white his teeth were, he walked into the kitchen and began unpacking the groceries. Once done, he sat at the table and rested his head in his hands. The wave of grief he felt for his father swept over him but this time he didn't cry. He felt a twinge of fear, but not the same intense feeling of earlier in the supermarket. This was different. What if it happened again and there was nobody around him to help? It was one thing caring for his dad; he had no idea how to deal with it himself. He'd clearly done a crappy job, mortifying even. But there wouldn't be a next time. He was determined to believe that even though deep down he knew without a doubt that there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

The next time he had a panic attack, it was while serving dinner to his mother. His hands shook and he whimpered and the dish crashed to a million pieces. His mother comforted him when it was over, laid him in bed and told him to sleep it off. He could see the worry line crease her forehead as he turned over and tried to sleep.

Next time he went to the supermarket, it happened again upon remembering the previous event. James Diamond had returned home with his parents. Ms Wainwright comforted him and sent him home with another armful of groceries.

And it continued on, just like that. It was odd to consider that it made him feel a little closer to his father, feeling that constant terror that he must have felt. If only they could've just bonded over fishing or hockey like a normal father and son. If only his father was still there to help him. But he was alone.

* * *

Kendall was eighteen, and just wanted to get on with his reading. His favourite genres were science fiction and fantasy, given that he loved to dive into worlds that weren't his own, into lives that weren't his own. Because his life pretty much fucking sucked, all the time. The peace was interrupted when his sister Katie came barging in from her day of first grade, backpack swinging from her shoulders and her skirt flapping about her knees. "Kendall!" she squealed, running to him. She threw her arms around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Despite everything that had happened, she still looked at him like he was her hero and made every day a little brighter.

"Hi, honey bunch," he teased, ruffling her hair. "Was school good?"

She nodded cheerfully and got down off his lap. Their mother came in after her them, always smiling that little, slightly wobbly smile when she saw him. He merely smiled back and went back to his book.

"Kendall?" He looked up.

"Kendall," she said again, shyly. Her eyes darted a little as she said, "I-I was thinking about taking Katie to the park in a little while, it's gorgeous out. Why don't you come along?"

"No thanks." He went back to his book, gripping it slightly tighter.

"We could just go for a little stroll around, it'll be nice and quiet and—"

"Mom, I said no. I don't want to go out today. Maybe another time, alright?"

"Kendall, honey, please," she pleaded with him, sitting across from him and reaching for his hands. He flinched as she touched them, and she pulled her hands away and placed them on her lap. "Kendall, you need to get out of the house more . . . please. I can't stand seeing you cooped up in here. I let you study at home, but that's the end of it. You're eighteen years old and you can't stay in the house forever. You're an adult now and it's about time you start taking your life back."

"I haven't got a life, Mom," Kendall said sullenly, turning and looking at the wall. "This is it. It's not my fault so quit nagging me. I get that you think I'm a failure and a loser but this is just the way it is now."

"Kendall, I don't think you're either of those things and I never said you were." She sighed in aggravation, running her hands back through her red hair. Her fingers dug into her scalp in frustration. "Stop putting words in my mouth, you always do this. I'm trying to help you but you won't let me!"

"I don't want your help!"

"Well you need it!" she snapped, snatching his book off the table and holding it behind her back. "Just go outside for half an hour, walk around the block if that's all you can manage." Her voice wobbled suddenly and she turned away, putting the book back on the table. She hunched over, head hanging low in defeat. "I wish your dad was here," she murmured, hand over her eyes. It was barely a whisper, but he heard every word of it. His eyes filled with tears.

"Because then you wouldn't have to deal with me," he choked, hand over his mouth.

"No, because he could help me," she cried, turning back to him and slamming her hands on the table. "Because I don't know what to do with you anymore, Kendall. I don't want you to live like this anymore but I-I can't get you to do anything but just sit here . . ."

I'm sorry, Mom," he sniffled, trembling as he put his hands to his face. "I'm sorry . . ."

She hugged him close, letting him bury his face in her shoulder and sob into her shirt. "Tomorrow," she said at last, unable to mask the hope in her voice. "You and I, we'll take a walk around the neighbourhood, as far as the market and then we'll come back here. I'll be by your side the whole time."

"Okay," he mumbled, eyes closed as he nestled into her. It was rare now that he ever let her touch him, much less hold him close to her body like this. But it felt nice, for once, to be held. So he cuddled her until his weariness took hold of him and he felt himself beginning to fall asleep. He yawned, quickly covering his mouth and pulling back.

"No, it's good," she said sweetly, holding his hand. "Lie down and get some sleep. I'm going to go make dinner."

Kendall nodded and stood up, leaving the room and going upstairs. He shut the curtains and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

The following morning he got dressed and brushed his teeth, combing his hair to perfection for the first time in months. His mother cut it for him, and so it was slightly sloppy in places, but it was better than letting it grow long. It wasn't a good look on him.

Upon hearing that he and their mom were going out into town, Katie was so excited that Kendall was going out that she pleaded and pleaded to come too, until their mom caved under her iron will and called the school to declare her sick. "Just an upset tummy, but I'll keep her home for today." And with that they all finished getting ready, Kendall wrapping up in his jacket and scarf despite the relatively warm weather outside. He still let out a shiver once they stepped outside the house. The world outside seemed so large, so cold. He shoved his hands in his pockets and avoided the proud look in his mother's eyes, following her and Katie slowly down the sidewalk.

It pained him to fear leaving his own house; he never used to be like that. For about a year after his first panic attack, they kept occurring regularly. Ms Wainwright stopped offering him free groceries; it happened every time he went to the market, give or take. Eventually he stopped going, and did housework instead while his mother went to do the shopping. In the last few months of his school year, classes started to stress him out much more than they'd used to. He started to get terrible headaches as soon as he entered the building, started to feel overwhelmingly anxious in class for fear of the teachers calling on him to speak. In September, on the first day he walked in, and upon being asked a question in homeroom, he felt himself begin to shake and the next thing he knew, he found himself curled up on the floor as another student ran to get the nurse. He was sent home early, and from that day on he refused to go back. His mother pleaded with him to try again, to go back and maybe see a therapist, but he wouldn't. The therapist, sure, but school, no. Not that she helped him much; all they ever did was talk about his dad. He didn't see how it helped him much. Eventually they stopped paying for it; it was too expensive and wasn't doing enough to make him better. His mom got him enrolled in a GED program, and so he studied from home.

By the time he was seventeen he had stopped going out for walks around the town, he had stopped meeting his friends outside of school, and he had stopped going out altogether. He stayed indoors and did as much of the housework and cleaning and cooking as he could manage, in the hopes of getting his mom and sister off his back. She was only seven and still tried to pester him to take her to the park to play, to go out and play with his own friends. Even she could tell what a mess he was. Sometimes when he was home alone he raided the cabinet with his mother's booze and drank until he passed out in his bed. Sometimes at night he couldn't get to sleep, so it was the best way to let himself black out for a while and get some peace at last.

"Why don't we go past the park?" his mom suggested cheerfully, holding Katie's hand. "I'll buy you both some hot chocolate."

"Okay . . ." Kendall followed behind her, hunching his shoulders slightly with his hands deep in his coat pockets. It was mildly chilly out, but not enough to make his eyes water or nose run. He could walk comfortably, about as comfortably as he could at least. They arrived at the park and Mom led them over to a stall selling hot drinks and takeout pancakes. She bought him and Katie a hot chocolate each and a coffee for herself, handing them out. He thanked her quietly and held it in his chilled hands, walking with her again. The park was a little too busy, so they moved on.

He held the takeaway cup tight in both hands, lifting it to his lips and sipping through the little hole in the lid. Burning hot chocolate and a sweet chunk of melting marshmallow landed on his tongue. He winced slightly at the heat but swallowed and took another sip, continuing to walk beside his mother and sister. They continued to walk all the way towards the market; it was quiet at that time of day, only an old lady or two shuffling past with their shopping carts, wrapped up in their winter clothes. Kendall slowed to a stop and gripped his hot chocolate tighter, refusing to let his hands shake. They actually obeyed him for once.

"I wanna push the cart!" Katie announced, tugging at their mom's hand and pointing excitedly at the row of carts against the wall. "Me!"

"I think we'll need to wait until you're a little taller, sweetie. I'll be pushing the cart today, but you can help me find the right groceries with those sharp eyes of yours."

Kendall froze up, hands beginning to tremble violently. "M-mom?"

"She bit her lip, turning to look at him. She was blushing as she said meekly, "I just thought, now that you're here . . . maybe we can do some shopping together?"

"I don't want to. Why did you trick me?" Kendall demanded, eyes watering. "You can't do that, Mom."

"Please, sweetie. Please?" She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "It'll be really quick, I promise, and as soon as you feel uncomfortable you can leave and wait outside. Just try coming in with us, just for today. And if it doesn't work out I'll never trick you into anything you're not ready for again, okay? Just endless pleading and persuasion, promise."

Kendall sighed, looking at the supermarket doors and back at his mother, then back at the doors again. ". . . Alright."

"Good, great." She grinned brighter than he'd ever seen. "That's wonderful, Kendall. Come on, let's get a cart and go inside." She hurried over to the stack of carts and pulled one out. Katie held on to the edge of her coat as they walked in, and Kendall trailed in after them sipping from his drink. The place was so familiar; it hadn't changed at all since the last time he went shopping there. The place was still bright and cheerful with the colourful boxes and packets of food dotting every shelf. A mother of three bustled path with her children in tow, the youngest seated in the back of the shopping cart. The toddler stared right at him and Kendall gave her a tiny smile. She smiled back in response and kicked in her chair as she was rolled away. He followed Katie's sprightly footsteps into the fruit and veg aisle, admiring the vivid colours.

"Kendall, sweetie, would you take one of those bags and get me some apples? The red ones."

Kendall nodded slowly and made his way over to the containers of red, green and yellow apples. He tore off a plastic bag and began to pack them, taking his time so his hands didn't shake too hard. This was okay, it wasn't so bad. He could handle it. He took a deep breath and walked back to the cart, carefully placing the apples inside the cart. He followed them around the rest of the store, quietly doing what his mother asked. He stayed away from the confectionary aisle, lingering back by the butter and cheese when his mom and Katie ventured down there to buy cookies and multi-packs of candy bars. "Kendall!" he heard her call and he hurried after her, walking towards the checkout counter where she was already loading her groceries onto the conveyor belt. He stopped in his tracks only a few feet away and felt his jaw drop.

"That'll be $26.50, please," James Diamond said cheerfully, taking the money from her and opening the register. Kendall slowly walked closer to the register, watching James hand his mother her change. "Thank you!" he added happily. "Have a good day."

His mom began packing up the groceries, and as Kendall timidly made his way over to help her put the bags back in the cart, James caught sight of him and his eyes widened. "Hey!" he greeted in surprise. "It's you!"

"Hi," Kendall mumbled shyly, head bowed. Rather than feel instant panic, he felt oddly calm.

"Kendall, right? That's your name?"

"Mhm . . ." Kendall glanced at his name tag, not that he needed to. He knew his name by heart easily. "James Diamond."

"You two know each other?" his mom quizzed, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, um . . ." Kendall scratched the back of his head. "James is Mr Rocque's nephew. He was here the first day I . . . y-you know." He swallowed. "He helped me."

His mom turned to look at James in awe. "Wow. Thank you."

"Oh, it was nothing." James' cheeks were pink. "I knew what to do, so I offered to help."

"Still, you should know how grateful we are." She smiled at him, before gripping the handle of the shopping cart again. "Do you mind if I use the cart to take my groceries home? I didn't take the car . . ."

"No problem at all Mrs Knight, so long as you remember to bring it back," he replied and they both chuckled, she thanking him one more time before leaving the store with Katie at her heels. Head down to avoid making eye contact with James, and feeling like a fool for it, Kendall hurried out of the store after them.

"You never mentioned him to me, Kendall!" she said as they walked.

"I'm sorry . . . it was a stressful day. I forgot. Can we not talk about it anymore, please?" And he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked ahead of her. He heard her sigh, but she said, "Of course," and walked after him with the shopping cart.

Once they got to the house he helped her carry the bags inside and unpack them on the kitchen counter. They put the groceries away together, her smiling at him sweetly every time they made eye contact. After the second or third time he started to smile back. "Sweetie, would you mind bringing the cart back?" she asked as she took a carton of yogurt form the refrigerator. "I have to give Katie her snack and then call your grandma before she goes to her book club . . ."

"Sure, sure . . . I guess I can." He put his jacket back on and zipped it right up to his throat. He left the house and gripped the shopping cart, wheeling it back to the market slowly. It was the middle of the afternoon now, and his stomach grumbled faintly in search of his lunch. He could have a sandwich when he got back. He walked along, content enough now that he was alone, though he still felt a twinge of fear at returning to the market. Thankfully he wouldn't have to go back inside.

When he arrived at the supermarket, he slotted the cart back into the row and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets immediately.

"Hey, you brought the cart back."

Kendall turned around to see James standing there, a stylish black jacket pulled over his work T-shirt. He was smiling, those pearly white teeth on display again. He'd grown taller over the last four years, his hair cut short now. But his face was the same. He had the same smile. "Yeah," Kendall mumbled. "I didn't know you worked here . . ."

"I moved here a year ago," James told him. "Been working here since. My mom was moving around for a while with work and I didn't want to go with her, we decided a small place like this might be nice. Her life is a little too hectic for me. Though I do miss her . . . I expected to see you around, but when I didn't I thought you'd maybe moved away."

"I didn't," Kendall sighed. "I just haven't been . . . I mean, I . . . it's been hard."

James nodded, choosing not to ask him to elaborate. He was grateful for that. "I'm about to go get some lunch, I'm on my break," he said. "Why don't you come with me?"

"Oh, I-I don't know, I was just gonna go home . . ." He felt his heart speed up.

"We can just get something and sit in the park, it's quiet. We don't have to in anywhere."

"I don't have any money."

"I'll pay for you."

"N-no, thank you but I—"

"Come on. My mom sends me an allowance every week. This place is so tiny I've nothing to spend it on. Oh jeez, that made me sound so spoiled . . ." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, reminding Kendall of the first time they meant. "I'd just like to catch up is all."

Kendall's hands curled into tight fists in his pockets. ". . . I'll go with you."

"Really?" James' face lit up in a dazzling smile.

"Really," Kendall replied, smiling weakly. "Let's go."

Grinning, James strolled down the sidewalk towards the rest of the town. Kendall walked beside him, lagging half a step behind him every now and then. He was very cheerful and as a result walked a little too quickly at times. "Sorry, I'll slow down," he said at one point, slowing so they were walking alongside one another properly. "Didn't mean to be rude."

"You didn't, it's okay. Lagging behind has become a habit of mine, I guess . . . never mind."

James suddenly slowed to a stop and Kendall worried he had said something wrong. "How do you like your burgers?" he asked suddenly, and he realised they were standing outside a local burger joint. "Fries?"

"Yes please," Kendall mumbled a little bashfully, head bowed. "And I like them with cheese."

"You can wait here, I'll be right back." And he went inside. Relieved that he hadn't been asked to go in with him, he leaned against the wall and felt his tense muscles relax a little. In a town like this everyone knew everyone and to walk in there would surely get all their attention. He didn't want anybody staring at the weirdo who hadn't set foot outside his house for a year. He sighed and glanced up at the blotchy clouded sky. He waited just over five minutes before James came out again, carrying a white paper bag and a takeaway tray with two vanilla milkshakes.

"I realised when I was in there that I never asked you which flavour you wanted," he said a little shyly, holding out the cups to him. "I hope you like vanilla."

"It's my favourite." Smiling, Kendall took the tray from him. "I'll carry them until we sit."

They walked back to the park and sat on a bench a little off the path, underneath a tree. James opened the bag and handed Kendall his food, stealing one of his fries with a grin before taking his milkshake. Kendall chuckled, surprised to hear the sound coming from his own mouth. "Thank you for buying me lunch," he said, unwrapping his burger and picking it up with both hands. "It's sweet of you."

"It's no problem, really. I wanted to." James bit into his burger, chewing for a minute before swallowing and saying at last, "I'm guessing the past year has been hard for you."

Shoving some fries in his mouth so he could delay answering, Kendall chewed and swallowed them before saying at last, "It has. But to be honest, it was the easiest of the last four. I've dropped out of school, I went to therapy . . . to be honest staying at home alone most of the day has been a little easier. Even if it's claustrophobic at times."

"Yeah . . . I'm sorry to hear that. But I'm glad you're out now."

"It's only today," Kendall sighed, eating his burger. "My mom coerced me into going out for a walk, she didn't tell me we were going to the market. Then things took off from there, I guess . . . it got a bit carried away."

"But you're okay now, aren't you? So maybe you'll keep being okay." He ate more fries. "It's a little like taking a driving test."

"Excuse me?"

"Well you know." He turned to him. "I took my driving test twice before I passed. But the first time I failed because of how nervous I was. I mean, it was terrifying. But once I was done, even though I failed I actually felt pretty good. Because I was bricking it before I got into that car, but I very nearly passed the test, and I managed to do it in the first place. You see what I'm getting at? I got better because once I'd managed to brave it once, I knew I could do it again, and better the second time. And I did."

"I guess you're right. Maybe I . . . maybe I can do better." But somehow deep inside of him, he doubted it. Sure James had managed it, but he was clearly infinitely braver than he was.

After lunch, James waved goodbye to Kendall at the park, giving him an awkward little high five/handshake combo before heading back to the market. Kendall walked home alone, feeling oddly light on his feet. Of course he knew the way off by heart, even though he hadn't walked it in a long time. When he reached the house he glanced back at the neighbourhood one more time, before opening the door and walking inside. His mother was sitting on the couch in the living room, hands tapping on her lap quickly. Katie was sitting beside her, eyes fixed to the television where her favourite show was playing. She then looked up and saw him, eyes widening as she gave a little cry of . . . well, he wasn't sure what emotion she was feeling.

"Kendall, where have you been?" she demanded, leaping to her feet immediately. "I've been so worried, why didn't you call?!"

"I didn't have my phone . . . I'm sorry, mom." His cheeks flushed. "I won't do it again."

"But where were you?"

"I uh . . . James," he said sheepishly, walking past her and into the kitchen. He heard her footsteps hurrying after him. "He bought me lunch. He was on his break and he wanted me to eat with him . . . so I did." His cheeks turned red.

"Oh, Kendall." When he finally dared to look back at her she was grinning. "That's wonderful. He's a very nice boy."

"He is nice . . . stop looking at me like that. Nothing's going to happen; he just wanted to catch up with me."

"Sure, but in my experience when a charming boy persuades you to lunch it's never _really_ just to catch up." She winked. "So I'm guessing you're not hungry. Why don't you go watch cartoons with Katie?"

"Okay, okay," Kendall chuckled, rolling his eyes and returning to the living room. He sat on the couch beside Katie and let her sit on his lap. That evening they had dinner together in the kitchen, and he even found himself cracking a joke or two. When he went to bed that night, he actually felt tired; very relaxed. He lay down and closed his eyes, snuggling into the covers and burying his cheek in the pillow. He let out a long, content sigh and felt himself drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

The following morning he woke up early, before even Katie and his mom were up for school and work. He went downstairs and took a mixing bowl from the cabinet, placing a pan on the stove and gathering the ingredients for pancakes. Katie liked them the best with slice bananas on top, his mom with blueberries and a bit of honey. He got to work cooking them, knowing the smell would wake his sister up soon enough. And sure enough he heard the little pitter patter of her feet running to the bathroom, before she clambered down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Pancakes!" she squealed just as he served them up to her. Their mom came in after her, eyes lighting up when she saw Kendall preparing pancakes for her too.

"You're so cheery this morning, sweetie," she said as Kendall served her breakfast and poured them both tall glasses of orange juice. "Are you feeling better?"

"I guess I am," he replied at last, sitting with his own plate of pancakes. "A little . . . I don't know. I'm kind of tired."

"Of course, of course." She looked oddly cheerful despite him implying that he was planning to spend another quiet day shut inside the house. Maybe she was so pleased about his progress the previous day that she didn't mind him slowing it down again. "Anyway, I'll be gone to work for the day and then I'll be home with Katie after school. Call me if you need anything."

Kendall nodded and cleaned up the plates and glasses while they both left to get ready. Once they were gone he settled himself down in the living room to read. He returned to the book he'd been working on the previous day, and began to read in content. He sat there for a few hours, just finishing the book when he heard a sudden knock on the door. He closed his book and stood up, tossing it aside on the couch and walking to the front door. He opened it up, mouth dropping when he saw James standing there, a grocery bag in hand. "Hi!" The greeting burst out of him, high-pitched and a little too squeaky for his liking.

"Hello there," James beamed, waving to him. "I'm not working today, so I wanted to see you . . ."

"You remembered where I live?"

"Yeah. Is that creepy?"

"A little bit. But it's okay." Kendall stepped aside slowly and let James walk into the house. He was shocked at how brave he was being, letting this guy he barely knew into his home with no real hesitation. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh." James grinned. "Follow me into the kitchen." He took a step, and then stopped. "Please guide me to the kitchen."

Kendall laughed and guided him into the kitchen, watching him place the grocery bag on the table.

"I brought Reese's, because I know you like them," he began, unpacking the bag and placing the items on the table. "A large bottle of diet coke, which I hope you do like. A strawberry and chocolate cake, it was in the discount section of the market because the frosting is a little smushed but trust me, it'll be delicious. And some pizza rolls." He stopped and crumpled up the paper bag, stepping back and grinning. "What do you think?"

"Another lunch date, huh?" He flinched and cursed silently for saying the word date in front of him. He felt his cheeks turn red.

James smiled even wider. "Exactly what I was going for. Are you hungry now? I cooked the rolls before I came here so they should still be warm."

"Definitely, let's eat." Kendall took some plates out and James divided the rolls onto the two while he poured two glasses of soda.

James glanced out the window at the backyard. "Would you be cool with eating outside? It's sunny out."

"Sure . . . sure. You go out and I'll get a blanket. The key's in the back door." He turned and left the room, hurrying upstairs to the closet and fetching the large picnic blanket from the closet. They used to use it all the time, but never anymore. Kendall obviously never wanted to go out, and his mom and Katie never went by themselves. It was more of a thing they used to do when his dad was still alive; he loved the outdoors. Before he could think about that anymore he slammed the closet door shut and sprinted down the stairs, heart hammering in his chest. He walked out to the backyard and saw James standing with the food stacked awkwardly in his arms, the glasses of soda on the grass. The garden was average sized, surrounded by a tall wooden fence. There was a tree in the far corner where the grass was shaded and often a little muddy. But today the rest of the garden was bathed in sunlight and so it was dry enough to spread the blanket on. Kendall shook it out and lay it across the grass, sitting on it and relaxing a little at last. James sat down too and set up the food, handing Kendall his plate of pizza rolls with a wink. Kendall's cheeks flushed and he looked down at the blanket as he bit into one.

"You're so shy," James commented at last. "Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad thing. In fact I think it's kind of cute . . ."

Kendall turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

"But that first time we met you were all sassy." He smiled. "Have you lost your sass?"

"Nah, it's still in here." Kendall smirked as he ate his last roll. "You're just gonna have to drag it out of me is all."

James chuckled and took a sip of his soda. They sat and talked for a while about anything that interested them; from books to movies to sports and video games. Kendall of course hadn't played sport in a long time, but he still watched hockey and football games on TV and so they had plenty to talk about. They seemed to have the same taste in science fiction and crime drama shows, debating over which CSI series was the best and which Marvel series was the best. It was incredible how easy James was to talk to, how easy he was to laugh and joke around with. He felt so at ease with him, so relaxed. When they split the cake between them and ate gigantic pieces each, he even dared to take some frosting on his fork and splash James' face with it. James laughed and wiped it off with the pad of his thumb, before darting forward and rubbing it all over Kendall's nose. Kendall squealed and laughed, shoving his hand away. "Rude!"

"Here," James chuckled, handing him a napkin. Kendall wiped his nose down and picked up his fork again, going back to his cake. "You know . . . I'm having a really good time."

"Me too," Kendall admitted. "I really am. I feel comfortable. That's unusual for me."

James gave a little sigh, eyes boring into his. "I wish it wasn't. I mean . . ."

"I know. Me too." Kendall bit his lip and kept eye contact with James for much longer than he'd expected. He could swear he saw James' eyes drift down slightly towards his lips, but they moved up again so quickly that he wasn't sure it had even happened.

James' cheeks were pink. "Listen, Kendall . . . this is kind of forward—"

"Oh, hello!"

Face red, Kendall looked yup to see his mom standing at the door, a wide smile on her face. "I didn't expect to see you here, James," she chuckled, arms folded as she casually leaned against the door. Kendall winced.

"Yeah . . . hi, Mrs Knight," he stammered, cheeks flushed. Kendall looked at the way his cheeks had pinked and the way he bit his lip in slight discomfort. He was adorable.

"Please, call me Jennifer. What've you two been up to?"

"We've just been having lunch and stuff," Kendall mumbled, trying desperately not to smile when she smirked at him. "So uh . . . you can leave us be."

"Right, right." Rolling her eyes, she chuckled and stepped back. "I can take a hint. You boys have fun!" And she shut the back door.

"Parents are so uncool, huh?" James joked. Kendall smiled and laughed along with him, thinking that his mom didn't really have a lot of opportunity to embarrass him these days. It wasn't like he had friends anymore.

"Hey, what time is it?" James asked him.

Looking at his watch, Kendall uttered in surprise. "Almost five. We've been out here all day."

"Oh, jeez. I guess time flies when you're having fun huh?" He smiled apologetically. "I have to go though. Dinner duty and all that, I'm sure you've met my uncle Gustavo. He loves his mealtimes."

"Right, of course," Kendall nodded, and the two got to their feet. "Don't worry about the picnic, I'll clean it up. You've got to stop spoiling me with these feasts."

"Hey, it's only the second time. And I like spoiling you." His cheeks immediately turned red and he cleared his throat, turning towards the door. Kendall followed him through the house and out to the front porch. They stopped and looked at each other. Kendall wanted to say goodbye properly, wanted to do something better than just stand there like an idiot, nut he couldn't think of anything charming, couldn't think of anything interesting to say.

"I had a really fun time, hanging out with you today," Kendall stammered at last, scratching the back of his head. He was so out of his depth, so lost in James' eyes. "Thanks for coming over."

"I wanted to. I, uh . . ." James looked down, suddenly quiet as his foot scuffed off the ground. At last he said, "Gustavo and Kelly are going out Friday night. Do you maybe want to come over? There's no pressure though, if you don't want to, I know it's a lot to ask . . ."

"I'd like to," Kendall cut in before he could think about his response. He just wanted to see James' face light up with confidence again. "I will. What's your address?"

James' mouth widened in a gorgeous smile. "I'll text it to you, how about that? Then we'll have each other's numbers." He whipped his phone out and handed it to Kendall, who typed his number in and saved the contact. In a sudden bout of confidence, he swiped up the front camera and took a selfie, adding it to his name and handing the phone back a little sheepishly. James looked at the picture and smiled. "It's cute. I like it." He looked back up. "I'll see you Friday, Kendall." And he suddenly stepped forward and enveloped Kendall in his arms. For a moment Kendall was terrified, freezing on the spot and forgetting how to breathe. But then he inhaled the cologne James was wearing, face buried in his shoulder as he felt James' breath tickling his ear and cheek. His cheeks were burning when they pulled apart again. He watched James leave, and his cheeks continued to burn. But once he was out of sight, his face lit up in a smile so wide his cheeks hurt. And it didn't shrink for the rest of the day.

The next day his mom offered to drive him to James' house. Not entirely sure how far away it was, he graciously accepted the offer. However, sitting in the car on the way there, only five minutes had passed before the car started to feel very hot and very small. He tugged his coat off and threw it on the floor. He'd never been to a boy's house before. What if something was supposed to happen? What if he wasn't comfortable with it? What if he was misreading all the signs and ended up embarrassing himself? He tugged at the collar of his shirt anxiously, feeling it dig in to the back of his neck harshly as he tried to take deeper breaths.

"Mom," he wheezed, "P-Pull over."

Glancing over at him, she nodded and immediately did, rolling the windows down before shutting off the engine and unlocking the doors. "Kendall?"

"Give me a minute," he pleaded, head hanging out the window. He was terrified he might throw up. "I-I just need a minute . . ." Then his hand fumbled for the handle and he flung the door open, falling out onto the sidewalk on his knees. His chest heaved and he felt tears gather in his eyes. Calm down, calm down . . .

"Kendall, sweetie." He saw the shadow as she knelt beside him. He leaned over further, practically curled into a ball. He gestured frantically for her to give him space, and so she did. He coughed and spluttered and shut his eyes tight to keep the tears in.

"Honey . . . you know it's okay to be nervous."

 _Nervous is an understatement._

"I mean, I remember the first time I went over to the house of a boy I liked. I was so petrified I wore odd shoes and didn't notice I had broccoli in my teeth. So naturally afterwards I expected never to hear from him again, but it turned out he liked me anyway. I didn't even notice that he'd been wearing a clashing T-shirt and pants the whole time due to his own nerves. Of course only a month later he dumped me for the head cheerleader, cliché alert, but the point is I survived the trip and in the end the mistakes I made didn't really bother him. Did you ever think he might be just as nervous as you are?"

Kendall's eyes finally lifted to meet hers. "Do you . . . do you think he might be?"

"Oh sweetie, of course I do! Boys are confident and bold when they think they've got it all figured out but when they actually like you, it matters. Trust me; I'm sure he's pacing back and forth in his room right now freaking out about you coming over. Because he likes you. I could tell straight away; moms know these kinds of things."

"That's true . . ." Kneeling up again, he finally met his mom's eyes. "I-I . . . I still want to go over there. But I think I'd prefer to walk by myself."

"Of course, whatever you want. Just call me when you want to come home, okay?"

"Thank you." She helped him to his feet and gave him a brief but gentle hug. He waited until she was back in the car and driving back the way they'd come before he set off again, feeling a little better now that he could breathe in the fresh air. There was something comforting, for sure, in the idea of James being nervous. Him standing in his room and checking obsessively to make sure he looked okay, maybe wondering what he would say when they were together, what he would do. The fact that he maybe had the ability to make someone feel like that made him tingle from head to toe and feel a little warmer, only in a pleasant way.

When he arrived at the house that seemed to be James', he felt a little less confident as he walked up the front steps. That being said, he was glad they had the place to themselves. James made him feel a little safer, a little more at home anywhere he was. He didn't need to be thinking that way; they hadn't known each other very long. He was being stupid. He needed to stop.

He didn't want to stop.

Kendall knocked on the door, rocking on his heels nervously and shoving his hands back in his coat pockets. It didn't take James long to answer the door. His face lit up in a wide grin once he saw him. "Hey, you came."

"Well, I said I would," Kendall chuckled, a little higher pitched than intended.

"Right, right . . . come on in." They walked inside and James led Kendall into the living room. "I've got some food in the kitchen, I'll be right back. Just make yourself comfortable?" He helped Kendall shrug off his coat, hanging it up at the living room door. Overwhelmed by him in every sense, Kendall nodded mutely and sat down on the couch. He listened to James bustling around the kitchen and let his eyes wander around the room. Most of the photos on the wall and fireplace were of Gustavo, Kelly and their friends. But one or two photos contained James and a woman who had to be his mother. He wondered about James' father, wondered if he should ask.

"Hey, I'm back!" Kendall looked up and his heart soared when he saw James carrying in a tray and placing it on the coffee table. One plate held a little pile of pineapple pizza slices; his favourite, the other piled high with brownies. He had two soda cans, and even a little flower balanced neatly on the tray. Nobody had ever done anything like it for him, not even close. He doubted anyone else had ever even considered it. He had to bite his lip hard to avoid bursting into tears.

"Are you okay?"

"I-I am, I'm just . . . overwhelmed. This is so nice." He picked up a pizza slice shyly. "Pineapple is my favourite, you know."

"I know now. It's mine too." He picked up a slice too and they smiled before lightly hitting them together and saying, "Cheers," in unison, before taking their first bites. For a few minutes there was silence as they tucked into their pizza, taking turns snatching slices off the plate and wolfing them down until there was none left.

"I feel like you know more about me than I know about you," Kendall found himself daring to say as he sipped his drink. "Tell me a little about you. If you don't mind . . . but I think you're interesting, so . . ."

Smiling at Kendall's flushed cheeks, James nodded and picked up a brownie. He picked a chunk off and looked away for a minute, thinking. "Okay, well . . . there's really not much to tell with me. I started school a little earlier than most so I graduated last summer. I had enough money to go to college but it wasn't really for me, but maybe in a couple of years? And, um . . . you probably did notice that it's just me and my mom. My parents split up two years ago, he was having multiple affairs . . . even had a baby out of them. We were both pretty angry with him, that's why there are no photos around of him anymore. I miss him and all, but any man who's happy do treat their family doesn't deserve to be around me."

"You're right, he doesn't. Because I . . ." Oh God, his face was burning. "I think you're wonderful." _No turning back now._

James looked a little taken aback, eyes wide but smile wide too. He leaned a little closer, voice lowered a little as he said, "I think you're wonderful too."

Kendall gaped at him, feeling a thousand emotions course through him at once. His heart hammered painfully in his chest, speeding up considerably when he felt James' eyes practically burning their way down his body and back again. Suddenly he felt very queasy. He wasn't ready to be with a boy. He knew he wasn't, why had he agreed to visit him? Why did he sit there and lead him on when he knew he couldn't even sit too close to him without panicking . . . his chest suddenly felt very tight and he felt his hands gripping the couch tightly.

"Kendall, are you okay?"

"I can't breathe," he choked, head falling back against the couch as he felt himself start to sweat profusely. He gripped his stomach and trembled as he closed his eyes. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . ." He wheezed.

No no, it's okay. Just listen to me and I'll talk you though it, you'll be okay . . ."

 _Nothing is okay. I feel like I'm dying._

 _My dad died, someday I'll die too. Maybe sooner than I think. We'll all die someday and then what? What's the point? My head is spinning . . ._

"Listen to me talk, I'm here for you. You're being so brave, you know that don't you?"

 _I'm a coward. I'm . . . or am I? I don't know anymore . . . I . . ._

"Kendall? Kendall."

Breath finally slowing, Kendall looked at James through eyes blurred with tears. "J-James . . ." It came out as a weak whisper.

"Shh." He felt James squeezing his hand. He blinked the tears away and looked back at him. "I'll take you home, okay?" James said softly. "Don't worry."

Kendall was about to agree, about to let James pull him to his feet and pick up his jacket. But instead he dug his heels into the floor, letting himself land back on the couch. "No," he said, not recognising his own voice for a moment. "I want to stay."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. It's like . . ." He took a shaky breath, looking at James. He wasn't a coward. "It's like a driving test."

James smiled. "Okay." Their eyes locked.

Then Kendall lunged forward and kissed him.

* * *

"I feel like you and I have never really talked about Dad," Kendall said to his mom. They were seated on either side of the kitchen table, half empty mugs of tea in their hands. "Not just losing him, but I feel like we haven't really talked about him at all, since he died. I talked to that therapist, but she didn't know him. You probably knew him better than anyone, didn't you?"

She smiled sadly but her eyes remained dry as she said, "That's what he always used to say to me. And it meant the world to me that he thought so. But you're right, I probably should've talked to you more about him. It was difficult, but that's not really an excuse. I am your mom after all."

Kendall nodded and waited for her to continue, sipping from the last traces of his tea.

"Kendall, your dad was the love of my life. You know that. A wonderful man, a strong man. Those attacks, what he had to cope with, it never made him weaker. I know that was hard for you to understand when you were younger, strength and weakness is a lot more complex than a kid realises. And I'm not going to be one of those idiots who say they made him stronger. Illness doesn't make you stronger. But he didn't let it ruin him, and I guess that was what made him strong. He went out and went to work and played with you and Katie, even when we found out about his cancer . . ." She gave a small sigh and sniffled as she continued, "Kendall, I know that when you started having these attacks it reminded you of him. But you're not your dad, and you're not going to die how he did. His cancer had nothing to do with his panic disorder, nothing."

"He always said he saw it as a sign . . ."

"I know, but that was only ever to make himself feel better. He believed in science and he knew deep down it was just bad luck on his part. It made him feel a little less scared. But the thing is, Kendall, you don't have to be scared. Or what I should say is, you don't have to be scared of being scared . . . which sounds ridiculous. But those attacks, there's no shame in them."

"I've been so afraid to have them," Kendall murmured, eyes on the table. "But it didn't even matter. No matter what I did they came for me, and I just made it worse. I stopped doing anything I liked and just let them get me here, in my own home. I'm not safe from them anywhere."

"But maybe that's okay. If there's nowhere to hide, then there's no need to try and hide from them anymore, is there? That won't make you better . . ."

"But it is a start."

"It is. Taking your life back will be a long process, but it's your process. You have to lead it."

"I've never really felt strong enough to lead anything."

"Well, you are. Everyone can lead their own life." She chuckled. "That's why we have free speech and all that, isn't it?"

He rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Yeah, yeah. I guess so."

There was a knock on the door and she grinned at him. "That'll be James. You grab your jacket and I'll let him in."

"Thanks, mom." Giving her a fleeting hug, he ran upstairs to grab his jacket, putting it on and zipping it up. He heard James and his mom talking downstairs, both radiating the same energy and cheer as ever.

When he walked back downstairs, James spotted him wearing his jacket and queried, "Out today?"

"Yeah, I want to." He took James' hand, leading him to the door and grinning as he waved his mom goodbye. "Only I'm treating you to lunch today. You deserve it, for being so great."

"I'm not that great, but I'll take the offer." James followed Kendall down the street, hands linked as he watched him smile and laugh and said, "You seem different."

"I am different," Kendall told him, swinging their hands. "Not sure how different yet, we'll see. I've decided to try and live a little better, despite how much my life sucks. Even though it doesn't suck as much as it used to."

"Well, that's good. I'm really glad to hear that." As they walked, James pressed a light kiss to his temple. "So, you've decided to just take your life back?"

Kendall looked up at him, returning his smile of pearly white teeth. "No. But I'm gonna start trying to."


End file.
